


A lady with a lamp I see

by Phrenotobe



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrenotobe/pseuds/Phrenotobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shepherds have got out of many scrapes, but Miriel didn't see Sully at dinner; privately she considered how bad it must be if she wasn't sitting up and elbowing her way into the thick of the conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lady with a lamp I see

**Author's Note:**

> For Lucina-Azura.

With a bowl of water in one hand and a candlestick in the other, Miriel nudges her way into the healer's rooms to find Sully. The usually insomniac Libra is sprawled across the bed outside the door, not seeming to mind as Miriel takes the key. The door closes behind her, and with a gesture, Miriel ignites a flame. Mercifully, the room is empty aside from the second to last bed on the row.

Once she is in, she navigates easily after a few bumps. Of all places, the healer's room is always the most logically laid out. Lighting a second candle and putting it in the holder by Sully's bed, she tips her head, pursing her lips as she tries to read what is going on without waking her. The shepherds have got out of many scrapes, but Miriel didn't see her at dinner, and wasn't on the field; privately she had considered how bad it must be if Sully wasn't sitting up and elbowing her way into the thick of the conversation.

Miriel puts both of her hands upon Sully's shoulder to roll her onto her back and assess the damage, pushes her down firmly on the cot as Sully wakes and rises automatically, thinking it just another early start before dawn. Sully only chuffs a breath once she realizes, her chin lowering to gaze up at Miriel as she puts her negligible weight to use. With a knee delicately placed across Sully's middle, Miriel sits to keep her still.  
“Hey,” Sully says, her hands curling up as she makes room, “When did you get a twin, Miriel?”  
Miriel doesn't respond; unfolds a square of paper, muttering with a gesture over the bowl on the table before dark crystals pour into it, a swirl four times widdershins and then lifting up the spoon to check that it has all been dissolved.  
“You're quiet,” Sully murmurs, “Didn't scare you, did I?”  
Miriel doesn't seem to hear, another stir and another glance before her attention once again lands directly upon Sully's face.

Sully opens her mouth to whisper again, closing it as she perceives the easy, organized way in which Miriel's gaze slides across the scuffs and scratches that illustrate the reason Sully wasn't present. Miriel soaks a rag, the solution something Sully can never remember the name of. She knows the alchemical smell well enough. 

“This will sting. Do you require something to bite down upon?”  
Sully laughs, her arm up to touch Miriel's body, make sure she knows where she is past the mental muddle.  
“Nah,” she croaks, “What do you take me for, some kinda weenie?”  
Miriel spares a minute to put her hand upon Sully's forehead, wary of her temperature.  
“Nah,” Miriel says flatly, echoing Sully's own note. Sully's hand sneaks around Miriel's; gives her bony fingers a short squeeze.  
“Your fever will break soon,” Miriel says, glancing at Sully's grip without comment.  
“Looking forward to it,” Sully returns.  
Miriel looks away again, and this time she finally lifts the rag. She pulls away from Sully, silent and quiet for a moment after she wrings the excess fluid away, and then shifts her weight to press down upon the deep scratch on Sully's forearm. Sully barely groans, an exhale that Miriel notes habitually with half of her attention, the rest of her focus on the multitude of scrapes and scratches that Sully has on display.  
“Did you get these cleaned?” Miriel asks, “Without proper attention, it is easy for many healthy adults to succumb to a secondary infection.”  
“Y'know, I don't remember,” Sully says, “Somebody used a staff. Hell, I don't know what they wipe on those enemy axes these days...”  
Miriel's lips pull to a thin line as she continues her task. Sully reaches out again, her fingertips grazing Miriel's thigh before she rests her palm on her knee. With every sting, Sully's grip tightens; the tips of her fingers digging hard into the angle of Miriel's knee. Miriel remains impassive, at least in the way her face never alters in expression.

“It is done,” Miriel finally announces. Her weight shifts as she dips the cloth into the water one last time.  
“What is that stuff?” Sully asks, her hand still on Miriel's knee. Her fingers press into the seam of Miriel's pantaloons, following it absently around the bend.  
“Iodine,” Miriel replies, “Useful as as a biodegradable disinfectant.”  
She grasps Sully's wrist, lifting it away.  
“I would ask that you would instead attempt that maneuver when you are properly lucid,” she says, leaning forward with a hand braced at Sully's collarbone, “I would prefer it.”  
Sully lifts her chin, mouth slightly open as Miriel dips just enough to place a short peck upon her forehead.  
“Hey,” Sully says, knowing that how close Miriel is to leaving, “Look after your ass… I can't do it for you.”  
Miriel's weight lifts, and Sully breathes a sigh.  
“I assure you,” Miriel says, “I am quite capable. Goodnight.”


End file.
